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Chapter Text

The last of Liam's boys to walk into the shower room has a message, but it's not for Liam. He taps another boy on the shoulder and tilts his head back to the door, and all four of Liam's boys file out. That's never a good sign. Liam's sure his boys are loyal, but there are influences Liam can't match. And whatever that influence might be, it's better to be ready for a fight.

So he steps off the tile, out of the spray, and heads for the pile of his clothes on one of the benches. He's reaching for his eight-inch length of chain when his potential adversary walks in, and as soon as Liam sees him, he relaxes.

"Fichtner," he says, nodding at the guard. "You could've just told me you wanted to talk."

Bill glances over his shoulder at the door. It's flanked by four of Liam's boys, so he's confident no one's coming in until one or the other of them gives the word. He steps in further and starts unbuttoning his shirt, folding it up neatly and setting it down on the bench. "I like surprising you," he admits, grinning.

"You planning on making a habit of it?" Liam asks, heading back for the shower and getting under the spray again. He turns it up, getting the water hot enough to steam.

"Not really." The rest of Bill's clothes join his shirt, and he rummages through Liam's pile until he finds lube and a condom. He has to go back to his own pocket for a pair of latex gloves, though, and he gets the condom on, then the gloves, and then he's coming up behind Liam and pressing the length of his body up against Liam's back. "Now, we do need to talk, but first..."

"Of course." Liam reaches out and braces himself against the tile, bending over slightly and spreading his legs wide apart. It gets him far enough down that Bill can slick up his fingers and twist them into Liam's ass, and once Liam's stretched just enough, Bill pushes in, one slow steady inch at a time.

"Never gonna get over how fucking tight you are," Bill breathes, leaning over Liam's shoulder and scraping stubble against his back. "How's that feel?"

"Like I've got eight inches of cock up my arse," Liam murmurs, "how do you think it feels?" He tightens up hard around Bill's cock once Bill's all the way in. "You don't want it fast today?"

"Nah," Bill says, pulling out slowly and moving in again, leaning back so he can watch his cock disappearing into Liam's body. "Not unless you do."

Liam groans and lets his head drop between his arms. "Fuck it," he mutters. "This is all right."

"It's better than all right and you know it," Bill whispers. "You had anyone else fuck you since the last time?"

"No." Liam turns his head so he can look over his shoulder; the water hits the side of his face and runs down his cheek, down over his shoulder. "Come on, Fichtner; don't be such a fucking tease."

Bill laughs and gets both hands on Liam's hips. "If you insist," he says, speeding up to suit Liam. This is how Liam likes it best: not so fast it's meant to tear into him, not so slow it's going to drive him mad, but hard and solid -- the kind of sex that'll build up a sweat on both of them.

Liam comes first, shouting it out in broken gasps for breath; Bill's right there with him, snarling as he pulls Liam back into his last thrusts. "Fuck yeah," he pants, "oh, yeah, fuck, yeah, Liam..."

Liam groans and waits for Bill to pull back, which doesn't take long. And then he stands up and finishes with his shower, while Bill strips off the gloves and the condom and showers off himself.

"What was it you wanted to talk about?" Liam asks.

"I've got a new boy coming into the block, someone my hot little blond bitch knows pretty well. You keep an eye out for him and I'll make it worth your while."

"What's his name?"

"Isaacs. Jason."

Isaacs, Liam thinks, trying to place the name. "You let him know the rules when he gets in. He keeps his head down and his mouth shut and nobody's going to give him shit."


Liam turns off his shower and heads back onto the rubber mats, grabbing a towel and drying off. "How is your bitch these days?" he asks. "Well-behaved, still?"

"Don't sound so disappointed." Bill laughs. "He's doing fine. I'm a little worried, you want to know the truth; a bitch that well-behaved could find himself looking at parole."

"Well, if you want someone to get him into trouble..."

"I think that'd fall outside the spirit of our agreement," Bill says. He turns off the water and comes back out, taking a towel when Liam offers it to him so he can dry off and get dressed. "No, he'll fuck up eventually, don't worry. And when he does, you and your boys get to pull him back in line."

"Can't wait," Liam says, finishing with his shirt and going to the mirror to run a comb through his hair. "I'd have had that one if you hadn't gotten to him first."

"Anybody would've wanted that one," Bill says, and Liam glances up at the tone in Bill's voice; it's an odd sound coming from him. It takes Liam a few seconds to recognize it as pride, and by the time he's identified it, Bill's moved on. "Anyway, Isaacs ought to be here tomorrow afternoon."

"I'll look out for him," Liam promises. "Has he spent any time on the inside before?"

"Nope. He's a virgin."

Liam laughs. "Not for long."

Chapter Text

Jason glances from Sean to the rest of the room and back again. Sean's got the bottom bunk, so Jason puts his sheets and pillow up on the top one. He laces his hands behind his neck and looks around, trying to make sense of all this. In jail. In prison. This is really happening.

Sean squeezes Jason's shoulder. "You all right there?" he asks quietly.

"No," Jason says, shaking his head and dropping his arms. "No, of course I'm not fucking all right."

Sean puts his hands up and backs up a step. "Easy," he says. "I know that much. I'm just--" He shrugs.

"You just want to know I'm not going to throw a fit or punch you or something?" Jason asks. "No, I've got it together. More or less." He goes back to the door and glances out through the bars. "How bad is it here?"

"It isn't. Or it hasn't been yet."

Jason glances back at Sean. Sean's been in for six months. Six months where he hasn't talked, six months where he hasn't so much as tried to use what he knows about Jason or any of the other guys to cut a deal. That kind of loyalty's worth something, Jason knows, and he's not going to take it for granted. "I'm glad," he says quietly. "What do I need to know?"

"Just don't lose your temper," Sean says, sitting down on his bunk and getting a cigarette out. "Keep your head down, don't fuck up, don't draw attention to yourself."

"Attention." Jason snorts. "Do you get a lot of that here?"

Sean stands up again, this time advancing on Jason with his eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asks.

"Hey, easy--"

"I'm not bending over for half the fucking block, if that's what you're asking--"

"No -- no, I didn't mean it like that," Jason says, shaking his head as Sean backs him up towards the wall. My temper? What about yours? "I meant, how much of that do you have to fight off? Is there a lot of that?"

Sean glares at Jason for another second and then backs off, stalking to the other end of the cell. "It's not so bad," he says, "and it's not going to be bad for you, either. There's a group of guys, leader's named Neeson. I have a deal with them, so they look out for me, and you're a friend of mine, so they'll look out for you, too."

"You have a deal...?"

"You don't want my protection, you keep asking questions."

"Christ." Jason shakes his head. "It's all right. I know how to shut up."

Sean takes a few drags off his cigarette and sits down again. "It's not your fault," he murmurs. "It's shit in here. You never know what it's going to be like until you're behind those fucking bars, and then there's the noise and the smells and all the fucking idiots around here... it's not good, Jase. It doesn't ever get good."

Jason's stomach drops, but he nods; he knew that, or should have known it.

"You come in with any cigarettes?"


"You'll start getting them. They're worth trading for. If you can get away without smoking, do it."

"Like you?"

Sean glances down at his own cigarette and chuckles. "Yeah, like me," he murmurs. "You ever have something people want, you hide it. Don't flaunt it, at least. Don't ever gloat, don't ever act like you're better than the rest of the people here. Protection only goes so far."

"All right." Jason looks around. "Christ. When do they let us out?"

"Meals. Exercise. Showers. Classes, if you take them. Not a hell of a lot. We get a library cart comes by; you can read if you want. I've got a chessboard, a few packs of cards, if you get bored and you want to play."

"You know how to play chess?" Jason asks, wanting to bite it back as soon as he says it.

"Fuck you," Sean answers. He's done with his cigarette now; there are maybe a few more breaths left in it. He offers it to Jason. "Want a smoke? What's left of it."

"Yeah," Jason says, and he takes three deep drags before there's nothing left but the filter. He flicks the butt into the commode, shaking his head at the thing. That's going to be fun.

Sean pulls a book out from under the bed and stretches out across his bunk. Jason glances around, and Sean pulls the blanket back so Jason can get a better look at what's stashed under the bed. "No contraband," he says, almost apologizing. "Dickens if you like it, I think I still have Great Expectations. Brave New World." The book he's holding is Sharpe's Something-Or-Other by Cornwell; his finger's over part of the title.

Jason grins a little; he'd never have pegged Sean as a reader. Then again, there's not much to do here, is there? He takes Great Expectations and climbs up on his bunk. "Thanks," he says quietly.

"Yeah," Sean calls up at him. "Hey -- Jason..."

Jason leans over and looks down at Sean. "Yeah?"

"Listen, one thing you need to know--" Sean grimaces, and Jason winces in response; that look can't mean anything good. "If it looks like I'm in trouble, if it looks like I'm getting hurt, if someone jumps me, don't jump into it."

"If -- wait -- what?" Jason asks, frowning harder. "Of course I want to be in. You served six months for me. I owe you."

"Then make it up by keeping back. If I need you to help me, I promise you, I'll ask straight-up, but unless that happens... please. Don't get involved."

He slides back under the top bunk, then, out of Jason's view. Jason stretches out and frowns as he opens up his book. Like hell I will, he thinks. I owe you.

Chapter Text

Jason's learned to be a heavy sleeper. There's no protection from noise here, so unless something shakes him, he doesn't wake up.

The noises don't penetrate. But when the bed shakes hard, that gets his attention.

He glances over the side of his bunk, squinting into the darkness as the noises get clearer. Grunting, mostly, some pained sounds. Those could be moans; he can't tell. Maybe when his eyes adjust to the darkness and he can see what's going on, it'll all make more sense.

Only it doesn't, because he can't even identify what he's seeing at first. It's someone's back. The top of someone's head. It's--

--it's Sean, that's what, Sean getting fucked. Sean getting fucked by a guard. And he's not fighting.

Jason feels a flash of anger as soon as he's got it figured out. This is what you meant, you cunt, he thinks. This is what you meant when you said not to fight for you. Sometimes you do give it up.

"That's it," the guard whispers, fucking Sean faster. He's wearing gloves, bright purple gloves, and he wraps a hand around his dick and slides his thumb into Sean's ass along with his cock. Sean whimpers at that. "You want more? Does my greedy bitch want more?"

Bitch, Jason thinks, flushing red and rolling back on his back. He's a guard's bitch. No wonder he doesn't have trouble.

Sean lets out another soft groan. Jason covers his ears when Sean starts begging. It's enough to muffle the words, but not enough to take them away altogether.

"...please... fuck... hurts..."

The guard's getting louder now. Then there's a smack of flesh against flesh that isn't just from fucking; it makes Jason roll over and look down again.

And it's another case of not knowing what he's seeing until he squints through the darkness and looks. The guard's got half his hand in Sean's ass, just about, and he's smacking Sean's cheek with his other hand while he moves his fingers in and out.

"You want it all?" he growls. "Does my bitch want it all?"

Sean doesn't answer. Jason glares down at the guard; if looks could kill, he'd be dead now.

"No," the guard says, finally, pulling his hand back and slamming his cock in again. "I don't want to tear you. Wouldn't be able to fuck you for a week. And I'd miss this. I'd miss my pretty sweet bitch. Would you miss me?" The guard's voice gets rough as he slams in hard enough to rattle the bunk. "Would you fucking miss me, whore?"

"Yes," Sean whispers, "yes, fuck, I'd miss you, Bill," and then he moans so loud and so hard Jason knows he must be coming. The guard -- Bill -- comes, too, shoving in one last time and grunting.

Jason rolls back again, and he can hear Sean climbing back into his bunk. There's the sound of a zipper, and the sound of latex hitting the toilet. The guard leaves, and he locks the door behind him.

In a matter of minutes, Sean's asleep again.

It takes longer for Jason to fall asleep. He can't, at first, and he tosses and turns and winds up stretched out on his side, imagining Bill and Sean there on the floor.

He doesn't even realize he's doing it until his hand's on his cock and he's practically groaning out loud. He's replaying Sean's voice in his head: yes, fuck, I'd miss you, Bill.

Good bitch, Jason thinks, and he comes all over his fingers, gasping softly, wiping it off on the sheet and scooting as far away as he can get from the wet spot.

He falls asleep and dreams of bending over.

Chapter Text

Sean can tell something's wrong. Jason's avoiding him as much as possible, not talking to him, barely even looking at him.

He overheard, Sean thinks, or he saw us. He doesn't have anyone but himself to blame for that. He should have known it wasn't going to stay a secret for long, but he'd thought they might have a little more time, enough time that maybe he could bring it up in a way that wouldn't have Jason acting as if nearly seven years of friendship don't mean a thing anymore.

Seven years mean something to Sean. He and Jason haven't known each other since they were kids or anything -- Sean was twenty-five when they met; Jason was twenty-one -- but they've been friends long enough and gotten through enough successful jobs together that Sean was willing to stay behind bars for him. He turned down all the offers to plea-bargain months off his sentence by giving the prosecutors Jason's name, for all the good it did.

Three can keep a secret if two are dead, or so the saying goes; the guy who came in with Sean, the one neither one of them had known all that well, ended up singing like a fucking canary. Sean and Jason both should have known better than to trust the guy; the score was his idea, his plan, and it had never quite smelled right to Sean, but they'd both been desperate for the money and it was supposed to be an easy take. The squealing little bastard's going to be out in six months, and now Jason's here, too. Sean's only consolation is that six months for the other guy is going to be rougher than Sean's three years put together. Nobody likes a rat.

This is the first time either Sean or Jason's been in prison. For Sean, at least, it's turning out not to be as bad as he'd expected. Sean's good at staying out of trouble, for the most part, and when Bill took an interest in him, that made him more or less off-limits to the rest of the men here. Maybe he could explain it to Jason as a classic case of the devil you know being better than the devil you don't.

Only that's not really accurate, and Jason probably wouldn't believe it anyway. If Jason heard anything, he probably heard Sean begging for it. Maybe that's what has him so upset; after all Sean's talk about not rolling over for everyone who asks, it turned out Sean's someone's bitch after all. And he likes it.

Another few days and maybe he'll talk to Jason about it. They can't just avoid each other forever; they live in the same ten-by-twelve feet of space. Maybe he can explain that when he first got here, there was no one willing to talk to him who wasn't after something. That the day Bill pulled him back into a closet and explained what he wanted, Sean's first response was a sense of relief; he could finally stop fending off offers that were getting increasingly difficult to turn down without making enemies.

Yeah, that's going to go over well, Sean thinks. He grimaces and lights another cigarette, wondering when Jason's going to get kicked out of the library and have to come back to the cell. Tell him you roll over because you needed protection somewhere and you were lucky enough to have someone come after you that made you feel like no one else could touch you. See if you can get him to believe it's still just relief, even after he's heard you begging for it. Maybe you could explain why you got so pissed off at him for implying you give it up to anyone who asks, while you're at it.

It wasn't about being ashamed. It'd probably be easier for Jason to accept Sean's reactions if it were. Maybe he'd understand shame. But Sean doesn't think he'd understand the real reason behind his indignation: Bill's bitch knows better.

Right. Jason doesn't need to know that.

There's a whole world of things that either Jason doesn't need to know or he'll find out the hard way. Just don't throw out seven years of friendship over this, Sean thinks, carefully crushing out his cigarette so he'll have the rest for later. I don't think I can make it in here if you turn your back on me.

Chapter Text

The past few days, Jason's been staying in the library until they kick him out and send him back to his cell. It's stupid, and he knows it; he's running the risk of alienating the one man in this place who's absolutely, no-questions-asked, on his side. But he can't figure Sean out anymore. The way he is with his guard -- Bill whatever-his-last-name-is -- changes everything.

If Sean were ashamed of it, Jason might be able to accept that. But it sure as hell doesn't sound that way. If anything, Sean's happier on days when he sees Bill, and that doesn't make any sense at all. How Sean went from snarling down Jason's throat that he doesn't roll over to begging for someone as easily as he seems to...


Jason glances up, having barely noticed when someone bumped into his chair. His gaze sticks when he realizes who it is, and he nods, stupidly, feeling like a teenager. "It's all right," he tells Liam.

Liam simply grins at him and settles down in a nearby chair. Jason clears his throat and goes back to his book.

He's been seeing more of Liam lately. Yesterday Liam came into the library after him and found a book, but if he spent any time reading it, Jason didn't notice. Mostly he was watching Jason. Jason's sure Liam remembers him now, and he damned well remembers Liam.

Liam was a friend of a friend, years back when Jason was starting to pull robberies with people instead of just working on his own, and the two of them happened to run into each other at a bar. Liam mentioned he knew a place that'd be easy to knock over, and Jason wasn't doing anything that night. More to the point, Jason was broke and had been for weeks, and splitting the proceeds from a $4000 take -- even if he was splitting 60/40 with Liam's finder's fee on it -- sounded awfully good.

It was a quick night's work. Jason didn't even have to hold a gun or a knife; Liam did the dirty work and Jason gathered up the cash. In, out, no one was in any danger, and when they sped off together -- well, as much as Liam's ancient, rusted-out Chevy could speed -- there was a hell of a lot of laughter and adrenaline to go around. Enough of both that Jason didn't realize where they were headed until it occurred to him that he had no idea where they were. They ended up parked in the woods with no city lights in sight, nothing but the two of them for miles. And there was something in the way Liam smelled -- cigarettes and scotch and leather -- that made Jason want to keep smelling him.

Must be the adrenaline, he thought, because it was more than just the smell driving him crazy. His cock was hard, and he didn't know how to say do me a favor and drop me at home so I can pull myself off. He wondered if it was just him.

He didn't wonder for long.

How a man that big could move that fast in a front seat, Jason never figured out. But one minute they were sitting side by side, laughing and breathing hard, and the next Liam was slamming him against the car door, kneeling up on his lap, making sure Jason's arms were pinned down so he couldn't move. Jason still didn't put it together until Liam had his jeans unzipped, and when he got his cock out Jason didn't protest. He opened up wide, choking on the taste and scent of it, wondering how the fuck it could be so arousing to suck cock when he'd never entertained the notion before. His own cock throbbed, and Jason wished Liam would let his wrist go so he could jerk off.

Liam pulled back after a few minutes of choking thrusts, and Jason didn't even have time to catch his breath before Liam was forcing him sideways, across the front seats and onto his stomach. Jason knew what was coming, and the last thing he wanted to do was fight now; he got his hands under his waist so he could undo his jeans, cried out when Liam jerked them down, but he kept a hand on his prick so he could jerk off while Liam fucked him.

And God. Maybe lube would have helped. Or maybe nothing would have helped. Liam felt like a goddamned freight train slamming into him, and Jason's cock went limp in his hand. He was sure Liam was ripping him open -- and the fact that not only did Liam not seem to care, but the screaming just made him fuck Jason harder, that was what got Jason's cock hard again. And when Liam shoved in and his cock pulsed and he shouted Jason's name, fuck, Jason couldn't help coming. All over Liam's ripped leather seat. Jason could only hope Liam wouldn't mind.

"Mmmm," Liam murmured against Jason's neck, and Jason groaned softly in response. Liam licked at the side of Jason's neck before pulling out -- making Jason jerk and yelp underneath him -- and getting a couple of oilstained rags out of the glovebox, tossing one to Jason so they could each make a half-assed effort to clean up.

Jason found out a few weeks later that Liam had been sent to jail, not for their job but for something else entirely, and he spent a lot of time trying not to think about how it'd felt getting fucked. It wasn't something he was going to let happen again.

It wasn't something he had let happen again, not in all the years since then, but he can't stop looking at Liam now that they're in the same cell block. And he knows it. Jason wouldn't be surprised if Liam could smell it on him. If circumstances were different, if it was just the two of them and they were out of this place, he'd work up the nerve to ask for it.

But he's damned if he's going to be anyone's prison bitch. He's not a whore. He's never traded sex for favors; not when he was a runaway at fourteen and sure as hell not now. Trading in sex like that... the man you give it to owns you, and Jason knows it even if Sean doesn't. And maybe it's stupid and hypocritical of him to take the protection Sean offers while hating him for offering it, but Jason doesn't give a shit. He's not going to get by that way. Anyone who wants him is going to have to force him.

Like he did the first time? he thinks later, curled up in his bunk, trying to sleep despite Sean's whispers and Bill's harsh grunts. Just get him to force you again and it's not your fault. You could probably make that happen here.

He could, but he won't.

Chapter Text

By now it's been a week. A week since the first time Bill came to Sean while Jason was here; a week for Jason to get used to the idea. Sean's had enough of Jason's silence, and he's had enough of Jason glaring at him. Jason can't hide in the library forever, much as it seems like he's been trying. They've got to have it out sometime.

Sean's ready now. "Just say it," he says.

It's late enough Jason could pretend to be asleep if he doesn't want to have this conversation, but apparently Jason's waited long enough, too, because he climbs down off his bunk and paces to the wall. "You lied to me," he says tightly.

Sean sits up himself, pushing his blanket aside. Like Jason, he's got nothing on but his boxers, and though it's cold in here he doesn't even feel it. He's too busy glaring at Jason to give a damn about things like temperature. "I didn't lie--"

"You said you weren't rolling over."

"I said I wasn't giving it to everyone in the block."

"And what, being a guard's bitch is better? So you're a higher-quality whore. So what?"

"Don't--" Sean grinds his teeth together and shoves his fingers through his hair. "Goddamnit, Jason--"

"Don't what? Don't tell you what you are? You're a guard's whore," Jason snarls. "You're just another prison bitch. What the fuck are you so proud of?"

Sean pushes to his feet and closes the distance between them. "You weren't here. You've never been here alone. You think you wouldn't be getting attention if I hadn't asked Bill to protect you?"

Jason sneers even as Sean blocks him in with both arms. "Go ahead. Tell yourself how fucking noble that makes you. Doesn't change the fact that you begged him to put his fist up your ass a week ago. That you don't so much as jerk off unless he says you can."

"As opposed to you? You jerk off while he's fucking me."

Jason's mouth drops open, but he gets it closed fast. "Take a step back, Sean," he growls.

"What is it that gets you off?" Sean asks, voice low. He's not taking a step back. If anything, he's bending in closer. "You like getting a free show? You like knowing your best friend whores his ass out for you? Or are you picturing yourself where I am, getting fucked so hard you can't see straight--"

Jason's eyes narrow into slits, and Sean knows, instantly, what's coming. Before he can react, though, Jason's shoving at his chest with both hands. While Sean's off-balance, Jason lays into him with his fists: two hard punches to the gut and one to Sean's face, knocking Sean back against the bunk.

Sean doesn't jump up to hit back. He stays still, one arm bracing himself against the bunk, the other coming up, fingers brushing over his cheek. "Fuck," he says softly, coughing as the blows to his stomach sink in. "Fuck."

"I would never have asked you to do this for me," Jason says softly. He rubs at the back of his hand where knuckles hit against bone, wincing as he flexes his fingers. "Never. I don't want to be protected that way."

"You stupid shit -- what other way is there?" Sean asks. "Christ, he owns me anyway. He'd be fucking me anyway. Let me protect you while I'm at it."

"Would you beg for him if it weren't for me?" Jason asks softly.

Sean looks away. "Yeah," he whispers. He sits down on his bunk and rubs at his cheek again. Jason hits hard. It's going to bruise.

"I just don't -- how can you do this to yourself?" Jason asks. "How can you just... have you ever fought him off? When he first came after you?"


"Christ, Sean," Jason spits, "how can you -- don't you care what that makes you?"

Sean does look up at that; he has to know if there's as much disgust in Jason's eyes as there is in his voice. There's not, which is a relief, if a small one.

"What does it make me?" Sean asks. "Should I be doing it the other way around? I'm a good fighter. I could be fucking the new boys who come in here. Have a few whores of my own. Would that be better?"

"No," Jason says immediately. "No. But why does it have to be that way at all?"

"It is that way," Sean says, more roughly than he needs to. "It's that way for everyone. The only reason you haven't seen it is because you already have protection -- protection you don't even have to pay for." He works his jaw for a few seconds. The initial pain's all but faded, leaving a bone-deep soreness he'll be dealing with for a day or two. "For me it's better having someone like Bill. Someone who doesn't ask for much -- I don't have to beat anyone for him or fight anyone for him or make any public gestures. I just have to give him my ass when he wants it. It isn't much."

"And you like it," Jason fills in.

"I--" Sean sighs. "Yeah. I know what I sound like. I know what I feel like, when it's him doing it. He's not the first man to come after me this way."

Jason's expression goes sympathetic, which startles Sean enough to make him frown. "How many before Bill?" Jason asks.

For a moment Sean's confused, but then he realizes they're talking about different things. "I fought off a few, two or three," he says, "but that isn't what I meant. I mean outside -- you didn't know that about me? I've fucked men for free. I like fucking men. I thought you knew."

"I--" Jason sighs heavily and leans back against the wall. "I did know," he admits. He looks back at Sean, and his voice is softer when he says the rest. "I don't give a shit."

A knot of tension comes loose in Sean's chest at that, and he exhales long and slow. "If Bill had come after me outside," he says, "I'd have taken him on in a heartbeat."

"Even with the way he does it?" Jason asks. He comes closer, finally sitting down next to Sean. "Did you like it that rough on the outside?"

"Sometimes," Sean admits. "If the guy made me want it. If it was that kind of night. I've had a few guys offer to play that way long-term." He laughs, but there's some bitterness behind it. "Never thought I was ready for that. And then I got here, and ready or not..."

Jason reaches over and squeezes Sean's shoulder. "I'm sorry," he murmurs. "For hitting you."

"This?" Sean rubs at his cheek and looks up at Jason. "It's nothing. You didn't touch me."

Jason frowns. "But--"

"You didn't touch me," Sean insists. He grabs Jason's arm and shakes him, hard. "You understand? You didn't touch me."

And Jason gets it. He obviously gets it; he pales a little. "Fuck," he mutters. "What happens to guys who pick fights with you?" he asks.

"Nobody picks fights with me. The first guy to try it after Bill took me on ended up in the hospital ward."

"Jesus." Jason shudders and rubs at his face. "He's that protective?"

"He doesn't like anyone touching what's his," Sean says with a wry grin. He knows he sounds proud of himself; he's trying not to think about it. You are, though. Proud of being his. Christ, maybe Jason's right; maybe you're as fucked up as he thinks you are. "He'd probably do it for any of his boys."

"You're not the only one?"

"I have no idea." Sean shrugs. "He doesn't come every night. There could be others." He doesn't tell Jason how much he hates the thought of that. It's not up to him. How he'd feel about Bill having a collection of different boys doesn't matter.

Jason rubs at his face and looks at Sean for a while. "If I were where you are," he says quietly, "I'd still be fighting them off. Even if I lost most of the time, I'd be fighting."

"How long is it going to take you to forgive me for not fighting?" Sean murmurs.

Jason squeezes Sean's shoulder again. "I need you to promise me something."

Sean frowns. "Maybe I can; maybe not. What is it?"

"If it ever turns into something you want to fight off, you tell me. I'd be with you."

Sean reaches out and pulls Jason into his arms, a rough, tight hug. "Thank you," he murmurs. He lets go and rubs at his cheek again. "I promise that much."

Jason climbs back onto his bunk; in a little while, Sean hears him snoring. He stays awake a while, rubbing at his bruise. His best hope is that Bill won't be around again until it heals. He has a feeling he isn't that lucky.

Chapter Text

Bill unlocks Sean's cell and steps inside. Almost everyone in the block is out in the exercise yard, but Sean got orders to stay put. He's curled up on his bunk reading, and Bill grins.


"Hey," he says quietly, coming forward and leaning up against the bunk bed, looking down at Sean. Something's wrong here. Sean's not looking at him. Bill frowns and bends down, grabbing Sean's shoulder and pushing him onto his back. "What--"

He stops cold when he sees the bruise on Sean's cheek.

Sean's been his bitch for six months now. There's always someone. Bill's had one guy or another ever since he took the job at Gage. It's the one good perk from an otherwise thankless position; one boy, one bitch, belongs to Bill for as long as Bill wants him. He wanted Sean the minute he lay eyes on him. It never occurred to him that maybe he couldn't have him. And Sean never played hard to get.

Sean follows rules. He knows nobody gets to touch him unless Bill says so, and the one time someone came after him and Sean had no choice but to fight, Bill took care of the other guy. He's long gone. There are occasions when Sean fucks up -- he's only human, everybody fucks up -- and Bill's got Liam to run punishments for him if he can't be there to run them himself. It's a hell of a good deal.

But if someone in here's laying hands on Sean, that's got to stop. Now.

"Who?" Bill asks, fingers curling into Sean's shirt.

"It's nothing," Sean murmurs. "Let it go."

"Jason." He's the only one Bill can think of that Sean might want to protect. "Why?"

"Because he didn't know better," Sean says, sounding more urgent now. He doesn't move, though. He just keeps looking up at Bill. "Please. I'm asking you for this. Let it go."

"Not a chance in hell," Bill growls. His chest feels tight, so tight he can barely breathe, and his jaw's aching from the way his teeth are clenched. "Nobody touches you. Not him. Not anyone."

Sean's eyes flash, and he growls back at Bill. "He's my friend. He needed to do this. But it's over now. It won't happen again."

"What the fuck do you think this is? Rehab? No." Bill shakes his head. "No. Do you know what could happen to you if people saw you around with bruises and nobody was taking the hit for--" Another hard shake of his head. "Don't try to protect him. He touched you. He's paying for it."

Sean's jaw tightens for a moment, but he nods. "I don't want him gone," he insists. "I don't want him coming to any kind of permanent harm. Will you do that much?"

"Shit." Bill's hand moves to Sean's shoulder and tightens. "I'll give him to Liam for a week; Liam's had an eye on him anyway. If he thinks that's too much, you tell him to talk to me."

Sean looks away. "He hit me because he didn't know how to deal with watching me beg," he murmurs. "He could break if Liam has him for a week."

"Then he won't be coming after you again, will he?" Bill asks, giving Sean a rough shove. "Get undressed."

Sean flushes even as he's sitting up and stripping out of his shirt. Bill stands up and digs lube, condom, and gloves out of his pocket. The lube he tosses to Sean; the gloves he pulls on, snapping the nitrile at his wrist. Sean glances up at the noise, blushing even harder.

Bill reaches out and grips Sean's throat. It's a light grip, not enough to choke him, but it gets Sean's attention. "You know this isn't a reward," he says softly. "You can have all the friends you want in here, but you know who comes first."

"I know," Sean whispers.

"Say it."

"You come first." Sean looks right into Bill's eyes. "I'm your bitch. You come first."

Bill knows what he's feeling is relief; he just doesn't know if he likes that. It shouldn't matter so much hearing it again; it shouldn't settle him the way it does. "Mine," he growls, trying not to think any more. "Finish getting naked and then get yourself lubed up. My bitch needs to give me his ass. Right now."

As soon as he lets Sean go, Sean shoves out of the rest of his clothes and pops the lube packet open. He shoves three fingers into his ass, rough, and Bill approves of that; it's just enough to be sure he won't tear when Bill fucks him, and no more. Sean's such a good boy. He knows when he's being punished, and he takes it like a good bitch.

"Roll over," Bill says. "On your stomach. Get your hands up; I want you holding your ass open for me."

Sean nods and turns over, hands coming up to part his cheeks, and Bill gets his cock out and rolls the condom on it. He stretches out on top of Sean, pressing the head of his cock against Sean's hole. "Who do you belong to?" he whispers, hand planted next to Sean's shoulder.

"You -- please--"

"Mine," Bill agrees, and shoves in deep. Sean buries his face in the pillow and screams, and the sound burns through Bill, making him set his teeth and press in deeper. "That's my bitch," he pants, pulling back, giving it to Sean again. "My bitch. Mine."

On a normal night Sean might be babbling out his agreement. This time Bill's rough enough that all Sean can do is scream. Bill grins down at him; God, the bitch screams beautifully. It makes Bill nostalgic for Sean's one trip to solitary, where screaming is the norm and he could let Sean's voice echo off the walls while he fucked him, where no one would come no matter what Bill did to him. If it weren't for the fact that solitary means more than a place to fuck Sean as hard as he really wants to, he'd have seen to it that Sean went back there.

As it is, he slaps at one of Sean's hands. "Get your arm up so you've got something to bite down on," he says; it's more a suggestion than an order, but Sean takes him up on it immediately. Bill nearly groans when the next set of thrusts makes Sean bite down on his forearm and scream against his own skin. He's so fucking perfect.

"You don't come this time," Bill grunts, though he doubts Sean could come even if he had permission. He's not sure Sean's even hard, but he's taking this just the way Bill wants him to, not fighting, just biting down and screaming when he needs to. So fucking good. "You don't come. You hear me?"

Sean pulls his arm away from his mouth and nods. "Yes," he moans, "yes, yes, please, Bill, Christ, please come in me, please--"

Bill tilts his head back and groans, eyes closing hard as he gives Sean that last deep thrust, the one that sends him over and makes him shove up hard against Sean, damn near moving the bed itself as he comes, cock pulsing hard inside Sean. With his eyes closed and Sean's ass hot and tight around him, he can almost pretend he's coming in Sean, that there's no latex between them, that he's getting to mark Sean inside and out.

He comes to his senses fast, but goddamn it's a gorgeous fantasy.

Grunting again, he pulls out, shoving Sean onto his side so he can stretch out next to him. Sean curls up on him, and Bill indulges him. He runs his fingers through Sean's hair, and he comes this close to kissing Sean's forehead before he reminds himself that he doesn't do that. Not with prisoners. He's got the gloves and the condoms for a reason.

"Mine," Bill murmurs.

"Yours," Sean agrees. "Thank you."

Thank you. Jesus, he's a good boy. "Always mine," Bill murmurs. "Always, Sean."

Chapter Text

Cillian's learning fast. He doesn't have Jonny's talent for cocksucking, but he's getting better. He's nothing like Christian, but then who is? Christian's the only one of Liam's boys who still fights every time, even though when Liam's not fucking him he behaves. If Liam has a second-in-command, Christian's it.

Liam glances down at Cillian, whose lips are stretched wide around Liam's cock. He's naked, on his knees, water dripping down over his face as they both stand in the shower. Christian's at the door, watching for anyone else who might come along; Jonny's with him. Sooner or later, Liam knows he'll probably just give Jonny to Christian outright, and while it'll lose him a bitch with a nice pretty mouth, it'll mean Christian owes Liam more than he'll ever be able to pay back. Leverage is more important than keeping every pretty mouth to himself.

He's just on the verge of coming when he hears footsteps, and he looks up, incredulous. When he sees Bill, he sighs and drags Cillian's mouth off his cock, giving Cillian a shove. "Dry off," he says. "Get dressed, stand outside with Christian."

Cillian nods and hurries to do just that, toweled dry and into a t-shirt and sweats in record time. He leaves, and Bill -- for once -- doesn't even undress.

Liam takes the opportunity to use the shower for its intended purpose, taking the soap and lathering up a washcloth. "What do you need?" he asks.

"You seen Sean's face lately?"

"Oh, yes." Liam runs the soapy washcloth over his arms, turns so he's facing Bill and slides it down over his chest. "I think he was hoping he'd be healed up by the time you got in to see him again."

"Yeah, I bet he did," Bill mutters, putting his hands on his hips as he glances away. "Well. I said I'd owe you when you agreed to protect Isaacs, if you recall."

"I don't forget debts, Fichtner."

"And I know you've had your eye on Isaacs since he got here."

Liam inclines his head, not interested in arguing the point. He can see where this is going, and it's a good way to discharge a debt that didn't take much work on his part -- no one bothered Jason anyway, not with Jason being tied so close to Sean. "Yes?"

"You get him for a week. That's his punishment for fucking around with Sean."

"Is he going to be moved for that week or do I take him as I find him?"

"You take him as you find him. I'll see to it there's ample opportunity for you to give him hell. Got a couple people lined up who'll give you some quality time together so long as they get to watch."

"You know all the uniformed perverts around here," Liam says, chuckling.

Oddly enough, that makes Bill laugh, too. "Helps to be one," he says.

Liam turns around again, rinsing himself off. "How's your bitch?" he asks. "Not beat up too badly?"

"He's fine," Bill says. "I don't think much would get to him. He was real fuckin' worried about Isaacs. He's not real happy with me for giving Isaacs to you for a week..." Bill trails off, and Liam glances over his shoulder to see Bill rubbing at his cheek.

"You care?" Liam asks, shutting the water off.

"No," Bill says immediately. "No, fuck, c'mon. Sean's property; you let other people fuck around with your property, you end up with broken goods. Isaacs needs to learn his lesson here."

"Mm-hm." Liam walks out of the showers and takes his towel, drying off. "He shouldn't be so worried about Isaacs. He'll fight; of course he'll fight. He's got pride wrapped around him. But he's just as much a slut as your Sean is. He just needs it slammed into him."

"And I can count on you for that." Bill raises his eyebrows a little. "You already had something with Isaacs?"

"Not inside," Liam says. "I know him from before."

"Huh." Bill nods, hands going back to his hips. "Week starts today. See what you can do with him."

Liam's getting into his clothes, and he nods as he finishes dressing and rubs his hair with the towel again. "I'll do fine. Have you thought about what's going to happen when I send Isaacs home at night?"

"I don't follow you."

"Bitch like that might look for comfort from the nearest friend he's got." Liam shrugs. "Does your bitch have permission to play with Isaacs?"

Bill doesn't answer.

"You might think about whether you want him to have it. And if you give it to him? I want to switch cells with Bale." Bale's cell is across the hall from Sean and Jason's; it's got a good view of everything.

"You'd owe me big for that one."

"So the balance tips," Liam says. "It's up to you, of course."

"Yeah." Bill lets out a breath, shakes his head. "Yeah. You get a week with Isaacs. Today."

You already said that, Liam thinks, amused. Bill's more shaken by this whole thing with Sean than he's letting on. It's going to be worth having a debt to him if it means seeing him shaken up some. "Can't wait. I'll get started early."

Bill nods and heads out. Liam gathers up the rest of his things and leaves the shower room, nodding at his boys.

"Come on, then, lads. We've got a fish to reel in."

Chapter Text

It isn't as though Jason didn't have any warning. Sean told him, and Jason tried not to flinch when he did.

But the reality of being outside his cell, looking at the faces all around him, wondering when it's going to happen... Just do it and get it over with, he thinks at breakfast. Stop drawing it out, he thinks at lunch. Mid-afternoon, Liam still hasn't made a move, and none of his boys have come forward to tell Jason where he's expected to go, when it's going to happen. It's driving him half-insane.

He spends an hour in the library before dinner, and it's like any other day. Liam's there. He's not ten feet away. He's still watching Jason. Jason's tired of it. He's tired of waiting, tired of the nervous feeling in his stomach.

He gets out of his chair, puts his book down, and walks over to Liam. Liam looks surprised, but interested; curious might be the best word for it. Jason bends down and lowers his voice.

"I know what's coming," he says quietly. "You're wasting part of your week. Don't you want to get started?"

"Do you want me to get started?" Liam asks, just as quietly. He reaches up and touches Jason's shoulder, and Jason flinches back. The flinch captures Liam's attention, and his hand curls around Jason's shoulder and squeezes, holding him still. "Do you remember me?" he asks.

Jason flushes and nods. "I didn't realize you remembered me," he murmurs.

"You liked it back then." Liam leans up, puts his lips at Jason's ear. "You didn't even fight me back then. Some things don't change, do they?"

Jason tries to pull back, but Liam holds him in place. He glares down at Liam. "I'm going to fight," he growls. "Don't fool yourself about this. I fucked up. I know how it works. But I'm not Sean." He pulls back harder, finally wrenching himself free. "I'm not going to beg you to hurt me."

"No, you're just going to get hurt and pretend you don't like it." Liam stands up, nods at the doorway. Christian and Jon are there, waiting, and Liam grabs Jason's arm, pushing him toward them. Jason struggles for half a second, but Liam's grip is tight, and he doesn't go anywhere. "Don't be stupid," Liam hisses. "No one's touching you but me."

"Is that supposed to set me at ease?" Jason asks. He jerks his arm out of Liam's hand; whether he wants what's about to happen or not, he's not going to be dragged around like a willful puppy. "So you aren't planning to gang-rape me; very generous of you. What should I expect next? Flowers?"

Liam chuckles. He bends his head down again, breath hot against Jason's neck. "I'm going to like fucking you again," he whispers. "Have you been giving it to anyone who asks since then? Or are you tight like a virgin all over again?"

You bastard, Jason thinks, and he thinks it at Christian and Jon while he's at it. They're flanking him, the three of them propelling him down the hall, and every step Jason takes is worse than the last. Between Liam's words and the sound of his voice, he's dealing with that shame again: the shame that's keeping his cock hard even when responding to Liam is the last thing he wants.

Make him fight you for it, he thinks. You're not Sean. Don't just give it to him.

The three of them steer Jason into a bathroom. It isn't empty, but a nod from Christian sends the men out into the hallway. Some of them smirk at Jason as they go; a few of them slide their tongues over their lips or grab at their crotches. Liam puts his hand on Jason's shoulder, and Jason takes an involuntary step back, getting closer to Liam. This is how Sean felt, he realizes. Any number of those men could have come after him his first week here. He could have fought most of them off; he'd have tried to fight every single one of them. But he'd have lost, sometimes, and maybe the thought of having one man to protect him was as appealing to Sean when he was here, alone, as it is to Jason in these few moments of vulnerability.

No one's touching you but me, Liam said, and Jason knows he meant it. Sarcasm aside, he's grateful for that much.

As the last man files out of the bathroom, Liam gives Christian and Jon a nod. They leave, too, and then it's just Liam, Jason, half a dozen toilet stalls with no doors, a urinal wall and sinks. Liam turns Jason so he's facing the sinks and the mirror above them. Jason does fight, then; he doesn't want to look at himself while Liam does this, doesn't want to know how he looks when he's trying as hard as he can not to like it. But Liam's braced for it, and he shoves Jason into the sinks, pinning Jason's thighs against porcelain and holding him there with his body weight. His cock's hard; Jason can feel it against his ass.

"They don't hate you," Liam says. "They don't give a damn about you one way or the other. But they were all told to stay away from you, and there's nothing a man wants the way he wants something he can't have."

"Is that why you wanted me?" Jason asks.

"No." Liam reaches around Jason's body and squeezes his cock. "I could have had you anytime."

Jason snarls and shoves back, bracing his arms against the sink so he can push harder. He slips out from between Liam and the sink and spins around, backing off a few steps and clenching his hands into fists. "Go to hell," he spits.

"This isn't close enough?" Liam stands back, eyes flicking down Jason's body. "You're right; you aren't Sean. The first time I got to fuck him, he held still when I shoved him into the mirror. He watched his eyes while I fucked him." Liam grins. "They got wide when I made him beg."

Jason launches himself at Liam, going for the body and not the face. Fist against bone hurts; he usually forgets that. Not this time. This time he gets two solid hits into Liam's stomach before Liam shoves him back with one arm and backhands him hard across the face. Jason loses his footing and stumbles into a stall divider, and Liam's on him, hand wrapped around Jason's wrist, jerking him around until Jason's shoved up against the stall, cheek against metal, arm wrenched up behind him. Liam gives Jason's arm a yank just to let Jason know what he's in for if he struggles; it hurts more than anything has since Jason took a fall wrong, climbing out of a warehouse yard, and fractured his right wrist. Liam's not going to break his arm -- at least Jason doesn't think so -- but this position makes it obvious he could. And it wouldn't take much effort on Liam's part. Jesus, he's strong.

"Just being as big as I am isn't enough in a place like this," Liam says calmly, reaching up with his free hand to trail his fingertips down Jason's cheek. Jason winces, but it doesn't stop Liam from touching him. "You have to be quick, and you have to know how to fight. I've got both." His hand moves down Jason's side, resting on his hip. "If you want, I can wrench your arm badly enough you'll need a splint, and I can fuck you while you're screaming. Or you can decide you've fought enough and let this happen. It's going to happen either way."

"And it's up to me how bruised I am by the end of it," Jason says, glaring at Liam as best he can. "Enough."

Liam lets Jason go and takes a step back, allowing Jason to rub at his sore shoulder and wince as his arm drops to his side. Jason glances over his shoulder. "Like this?" he asks, nodding back toward the stall.

"I'll go easy this time. You don't have to watch yourself." Liam digs something out of his pocket; Jason blinks stupidly at it until he figures out it's a condom.

Wasn't expecting that, he thinks. "What does that cost in trade?" he asks.

"Lube? Condoms? Not much, since I get them from Bill. He started giving them to me when he let me punish Sean."

"Nice of him to care so much." Jason steps back a little more and braces himself against the stall. Maybe it won't hurt the way it did the first time.

"He'll say he doesn't, if you ask him," Liam murmurs. He puts the two plastic packets at Jason's mouth. "Hold these."

Jason has to take a deep breath before he can make himself do it. Eventually, he takes the packets, holding them gingerly between his teeth, and he has to force himself not to bite down on them when Liam reaches around his body to get his pants down. He nearly loses his resolve when Liam's hand comes up and curls around his cock. So I'm hard, he thinks. I haven't had anyone's hand on me but my own in months. He's damned if he's going to let Liam know he likes it, though. He stays perfectly still as Liam strokes him, doesn't moan, doesn't move to get more of Liam's hand. He tilts his head down, hoping it still looks like shame, knowing Liam won't be fooled for a moment. He wants to see Liam's hand on his cock. His thoughts flash back to Sean, to the idea of Sean begging Bill to fist him. Have you had this hand inside you? he wonders. As punishment?

That line of thought is mercifully cut off when Liam takes the packets back, and after a few seconds of silence -- enough time for Liam to get the condom on and get his fingers slick, Jason figures -- his fingers are at Jason's asshole, probing. Jason sets his teeth and tilts his ass back, and Liam finds the right angle to push in. He isn't gentle. Jason's glad; he doesn't think he could stand gentle right now. He's efficient, at best, and it hurts.

"Thank me," Liam murmurs.

"You're joking," Jason fires back, and as soon as he hears himself, he grits his teeth again. It's almost worse than watching himself in the mirror. He can hear how breathless his voice has gone; he can hear his own anticipation.

"I'm not," Liam says. He keeps moving his fingers, twisting them. "Thank me for stretching you."

Jason stays silent, and it earns him a rough, blinding shove. Just two fingers and it hurts that much. When it's his cock...

"Thank me," Liam repeats.

"Fuck, thank you," Jason pants, eyes shut tight. He doesn't sound grateful now; he sounds as if he's trying very hard not to scream.

"I've got about half the packet left," Liam says. "Beg me for it, and you can have it."

Jason's eyes snap open at that, and he steadies himself. "Fuck yourself with it, for all I care," he says. "I'm not begging for you."

"Your choice," Liam says. There's a soft thap when the packet and the condom wrapper hit the floor, and Jason feels Liam's thumbs pulling his cheeks apart. Oh, Jesus, oh fuck, he's going to hurt me, he's going to--

But he doesn't have time to fight. Liam's in him, the first inch of him anyway, and Jason screams as Liam forces his way inside. He tries to move his arms, tries to reach behind him, and when that fails he tries to shove himself off the stall and turn around. All that does is drive Liam in deeper, and Jason quickly stops the motion, flattening himself against the stall as best he can, biting his lower lip hard to keep his tears in.

"Imagine this," Liam pants in Jason's ear, "with no lube, with your own spit and fingers stretching you and that's all." He shifts; it shoots agony through Jason's body, starting at his ass and moving up to explode at the base of his spine. "You'd have that every night if it weren't for Sean. You'd have that from me first, then Christian, then the rest of my boys, anyone who'd been good enough to deserve you." Liam groans as he gets another inch buried in Jason's ass. "Every night. You would have been my bitch your first day here if not for Sean."

"Fuh--" Jason can't speak; it hurts too much for that. He squeezes his eyes shut. This can't last forever. Fucking hurry up. Stop talking about Sean.

"Fucking idiot," Liam growls, and with that, he's all the way in, hips pressed hard against Jason's bare cheeks. "He was trying to protect you from this." He pulls out, which takes almost as long as pushing in for the first time did, but his next thrust in is fast and hurts enough to make Jason scream again. "You didn't have to love him for it. But you should have--" another thrust, brutal and cruel, "appreciated him." Liam holds still, giving Jason enough time to breathe. He's not going to relax, but he does feel his body shift, unclench some, try to accommodate Liam's invasion. Liam rests his forehead against Jason's shoulder. "God, you're tight," he breathes. "Are you hard?"

Jason chuckles, although the sound morphs into a whimper halfway through. "No," he says, voice hoarse. "Hurts too much."

"Didn't stop you the last time."


Liam answers the insult with another thrust, and that shuts Jason up immediately. When Liam's got a hard rhythm established, he puts his hand back on Jason's cock, and while Jason was telling the truth -- he wasn't hard when Liam asked -- it doesn't take long for him to get hard again. He bites his lower lip again, holding in screams and moans this time. I won't beg. Not for this. Not for you.

He doesn't have to, though. Liam simply pounds into him, hand twisting on his cock, until Jason opens his mouth and screams as he comes. Liam comes just after he does, growling against Jason's shoulder, cock pulsing so hard in Jason's ass that Jason nearly screams again.

When it's over, Liam pulls out and takes a few steps back. Jason collapses against the stall, breathing heavily.

"First day," Liam murmurs. "That's all. I'd suggest getting some rest. Tomorrow's going to be harder."

Jason ends up laughing at that. "Thanks for the warning," he mumbles.

Liam's silent a while, long enough that Jason looks over his shoulder to make sure Liam's still there. He is; from the look of him, he's been waiting for Jason to turn around. "You did well," he says. "Be damned nice to Sean when you go home. You lash out at him today and you could be mine for a month."

"Is that a threat? A hint?" Jason struggles his clothes back into order. "What do you want from this?"

"I want to spend the week fucking you. If I'm lucky, you'll beg by the end of it. If I'm not, the next time Bill gives you to me, you will." Liam shrugs. He's already dressed again, and he looks as if he's had a light jog, maybe, a little bit of exercise. Jason doesn't want to know what he looks like.

"This isn't going to happen again," Jason promises. "I know better."

"So you're learning how to be a good bitch?" Liam grins at him, an ugly grin that makes Jason's eyes narrow. "He might not be fucking you, but if you're learning to toe the line the way he wants you to, don't fucking fool yourself. You're Bill's bitch, too."

"And you're jealous," Jason says. "Jealous that there's a bigger dog than you." Something occurs to him, and his eyebrows go up. "Does he fuck you?" he asks. "Do you give Bill your ass? Because I'm sure half the cons in here would love to watch--"

"Don't play this game with me." Liam closes the distance between them and pins Jason against the stall again, this time with his thigh shoved against Jason's cock. Jason groans. "You don't know how yet."

"Stop," Jason whispers. "Hurts."

"Do I hear a please in there?"

"No," Jason says. "But -- you want that tomorrow, don't you? So don't rub it off."

Liam's laughing as he backs off. "God, you're better than I thought you'd be," he says, heading for the door. Jason watches him go and lets himself fall back against the stall, taking the weight on his shoulders instead of his ass.

So were you, he thinks, wishing he weren't thinking it. Better than I thought you'd be.

Chapter Text

It bothers Sean when things happen that are out of the ordinary. Nothing good tends to come of the unusual around here.

Today's unusual activity is a series of cell changes. Liam's belongings have been moved to the cell directly across from Sean's; Christian's being moved in with Jon; word of mouth from a few cells down is that Cillian's being put in with someone who doesn't belong to Liam's gang at all. Sean's suspicious of that move in particular. Maybe it means Liam's trying to bribe someone. Or maybe Liam just wanted the cell across from Sean and Jason's, and he didn't mind a minor sacrifice to make it happen.

Sean's standing at his bars, watching all the activity, when Bill shows up. "Step back," Bill says, even though Sean's already doing it. The cell door opens, and Bill steps inside.

"What's going on out there?" Sean asks.

"Sit down. I've only got about ten minutes, so we don't have a hell of a lot of time for questions and answers." Bill waits until Sean's taken a seat, and he sets his hands on his hips while he glances around Sean's cell. He's got leather gloves on today, which has Sean half-hard already; leather gloves are usually a good sign. Only he's not reaching out to touch Sean yet, and he doesn't have a lot of time... what's going on? Sean wonders.

Bill reaches up and rubs the back of his neck, and that sinking feeling in Sean's stomach gets worse. Bill looks nervous. Nervous in a way Sean's never seen from him before. "What's--"

"Liam's week started today," Bill interrupts.

I know. Sean stays quiet, though, waiting for Bill to continue.

"When Jason gets back..." Bill's jaw clenches and unclenches, and Sean wishes he could guess at what Bill's thinking. "You have three rules. He doesn't get to hurt you. He doesn't get to fuck you. And you always--" Bill reaches out, and between the motion and the fact that Bill's in leather gloves, Sean's sure Bill's going for his throat. He doesn't connect, though, much as Sean wants him to. They stay half an inch apart. Sean's getting hard just from the anticipation.


Bill drops his hand to his side. "You always belong to me," he says. "You understand that? Always."

"I wasn't going to forget," Sean says quietly, more confused than ever. Why did you need to tell me that again? Why aren't you touching me?

"If he wants... something..." Bill's voice trails off, and he looks down at the floor. "You have permission." He looks up again, eyes locking onto Sean's. The rest of it comes out so fast Sean nearly has trouble keeping up. "But you follow the rules or I swear to God he'll be across the hall and I don't give a damn what happens to him then."

Sean stares at Bill when he's done speaking, uncertain what to say. Thank you? He's not sure whether to be grateful for this kind of permission or not; Jason might want some comfort after Liam's been after him, but maybe he won't, and Sean can't help hoping that he doesn't. That he won't be affected so much by what Liam does to him that he needs comfort. I don't need the rules bent? But this isn't about him, it's about Jason. And that doesn't make any sense, unless Liam--

That's it. Liam pulled strings, or he put some kind of thought into Bill's head, or -- Sean's not sure what, but he knows it's all got to do with Liam. "You don't trust me," he blurts out, wincing as the words hit the air. Of all the things he could have said, that's the one he least wanted out there. It makes it pretty damned clear he's hurt, and he doesn't want Bill thinking Sean's going to get emotional on him. I'm a fucking prison bitch; he doesn't want my feelings. Hell, I don't want to fucking have feelings for him.

Bill looks startled, too, and he reaches down to Sean's shoulder and grips it hard. "I trust you," he says, fingers biting into Sean's muscles. "But I'm not fucking stupid, either. You care about him."

"I..." Christ, what the hell do I say to that? "It isn't--" "It isn't what we have," yeah, that's going to go over well. Fucking idiot.

"Don't." Bill pulls away. Sean's glad he kept his mouth shut; Bill obviously doesn't want to hear any of it. "You have permission, you have rules, don't you even think about disappointing me."

"I won't. Please--" Sean drops to his knees, presses his face against Bill's crotch. It's a hell of a lot more forward than he's supposed to be, but he doesn't care. It's as if Bill doesn't have a clue how much Sean needs him, how much Sean belongs to him, and he's damned if he's going to let Bill walk out of here without at least trying to show him. "Please," he whispers, and his breath's hot against Bill's cock, even through layers of heavy fabric. "Please..."

Bill slides a hand into Sean's hair and makes a tight fist, pulling Sean away. "Get your face on the floor, bitch," he says. Sean drops to his forearms and knees and puts his forehead on the floor, closing his eyes. Fuck.

But he can hear Bill unbuckling his belt, unzipping his fly. There's another pause. Condom, Sean thinks, he's getting a condom on, he's going to let me suck him -- after that? After I did that?

"Do you remember the first week I had you?" Bill asks. "Do you remember me marking you that first week?"

Christ. Sean does remember. He's not going to forget that first week. He remembers Bill beating him, first with his belt, then with the nightstick, and he remembers Bill marking him the way a dog marks property. He remembers going to sleep stinking of Bill's piss and he remembers how he woke up hard in the morning, harder than he'd ever been in his life. Bill did that again, once, when Sean went to solitary, but since then it hasn't happened.

He's got just enough warning that he doesn't come up off the floor when the first stream hits. He cringes, feeling Bill's piss soak into his shirt, trickle down his body. He'll stay like this until Bill tells him to get up. He'd sleep like this if Bill told him to. Please, he said, and as much as the humiliation burns, he's relieved. Bill knew what Sean was asking for. He knew what Sean wanted to prove.

When Bill's finished, Sean can hear him zipping his pants back up. He stays on the floor, waiting to be told he can move.

Bill crouches down next to him, sliding his fingers through Sean's hair, petting him. "Mine," he whispers.

"Yours," Sean whispers back.

"You remember the rules?"


"Go shower." Bill stands up. "I'll see you again when the week's over."

Sean can't make himself get up until after Bill's walked out of his cell. He grabs his towel and his bucket of shower supplies and heads off gratefully, cheeks burning as he walks down the hall.

Chapter Text

It's been over an hour since lights-out; Jason still can't sleep. He can hear from Sean's snoring that Sean isn't having any trouble, so at least the way Jason's tossing and turning isn't keeping him awake, but that's not much consolation. Jason's still sore from this afternoon, but the soreness isn't what has him too twisted up to relax. It's that he wants it to happen again.

He rolls onto his back and slings his arm over his face, hand moving to his cock. It doesn't take long before he's grunting, biting at his lower lip and nearly there, just a little more, just--


"Fuck!" Jason jerks his hand away from his cock and tries to get his breath back. "Jesus, Sean..."

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing--Christ--" Jason groans and rubs at his eyes. "I was jerking off."

"Oh--fuck, sorry." Sean groans, too, but his is clearly out of embarrassment. "I thought you were dreaming."

"I'd have to be asleep first." Jason rolls over on his side. "Sorry for waking you, though."

"It's all right. I was just..." His voice trails off. "I wish I could leave you alone," he says quietly. "If that would help."

"It wouldn't," Jason murmurs, surprising himself. He'd come back limping, not wanting to talk about it, and he'd spent the rest of the day in bed, but Sean's presence was a comfort--maybe because Sean had gotten through his own time with Liam, maybe because Sean liked rolling over in here and it hadn't made him unrecognizable. "I'll get through it. You don't have to worry about me."

"I don't think I can help it. You're my friend. I didn't want this to happen to you."

Jason sighs; now that his erection's gone down, he needs to piss. He swings his legs over the side of the bunk and hops down, pads over to the toilet, and once he's finished he squints through the darkness at Sean. "It's not your fault," he says. "I'm not blaming you for anything."

He can make out Sean in the darkness; Sean's rolled onto his side and is looking back at him. His hair's ruffled, and he looks half-asleep. No surprise there. "It's not easy, is it?" Sean murmurs. "Not blaming anyone for it. You'd think at the very least you could blame yourself."

The sentiment surprises Jason at first, but at the same time, he can make sense of it. "If it's your fault, maybe you could do things different in the future?" he asks. "Fuck that."

"Yeah." Sean sighs. He glances toward the cell door, out through the hall, and Jason's eyes follow his.


"Just wondering if we had a voyeur. It's too dark; I can't tell if he's awake or not."


"No." Sean looks back at Jason. "Bale's down the hall now; Liam moved cells around."

"Jesus." Jason hadn't even noticed. "He doesn't even want to give me time to breathe without being there to watch, does he?" Sean stays quiet, though, and Jason frowns. "I'm missing something," he says. A thought occurs to him, and he ends up backing up a step, putting his back against the wall. "Oh, Christ, don't tell me they want you to--" He can't even finish that sentence, because he doesn't know what they'd want Sean to do to him, and worse, he doesn't know if he could fight Sean off. If he'd even be able to pretend to fight.

It doesn't matter, because as soon as he says it, Sean sits up. "I'm not doing a goddamned thing to you, and there's not a chance in hell they could make me, so fucking stop that." He shoves his hands through his hair and looks down at the floor. "Fuck, Jason."

"I'm sorry," Jason says immediately. He's tired enough he can't even try to cover how relieved he is. "I knew better than that."

"Yeah, you damned well should have," Sean says, shaking his head. "But I don't blame you for being worried. God knows if Liam could manipulate his way into watching us fuck, he'd do it."

The matter-of-fact way Sean says that puts a twist in Jason's gut, and not an entirely unpleasant one. He doesn't know if it's the thought of fucking Sean, or the thought of Liam wanting to see it, but either way he thinks staying here watching Sean is a bad idea. He climbs back up into his bunk. "I'm sure he would," he says.

Sean's quiet; Jason rolls onto his side, trying to settle down. What Sean says next doesn't help with that. "I have permission. Apparently Liam was sure you'd want--Christ knows what he thought you'd want, but he was sure enough that Bill gave me permission for it." He exhales softly. "Within limits. You can't fuck me or hurt me."

Jason swallows hard. This is where he's supposed to say that he doesn't want anything from Sean, that he'll be damned if he gives Liam the kind of show he's looking for.

But there's one hell of a difference between getting forced into something and finding out it's an offer on the table, and it's up to me if I take him up on it.

"I didn't think he wanted to share you with anyone."

"Maybe he didn't want me having to choose sides."

It's a kind of understanding Jason would never have expected from Bill, and he's not sure what to make of it. "I suppose I get to thank him for that, too?"

"I wouldn't recommend it," Sean says dryly. "You worry him enough already."

"I worry him? What the hell does he need to be worried about me for?"

"You're the only thing around here I care about--" Sean cuts himself off there. Jason can fill in the blank. The only thing I care about more than him.

The silence stretches out, but it isn't an awkward one. After a while, Jason can hear Sean's steady breathing again, and eventually Sean starts snoring.

It's a strange admission to hear out loud--even if he didn't actually say all of it out loud--and Jason knows it's not something he can use to his advantage, use to push back against Bill and his control of Jason's situation. It puts things in a different light, though; it moves the puzzle pieces around, and the picture's changed some in retrospect.

He remembers a lot of late nights out drinking with Sean; a lot of times Sean took too long getting back from the john and had swollen lips or too much of a grin on his face for Jason to miss what he'd been doing.

He remembers walking out a back door, once, staring while his cigarette burned down to the filter as Sean fucked an anonymous stranger against an alley wall.

It could have been me, he thinks. All along.

Outside, it never would have happened. Inside, all he has to do is ask.

You still have to ask. It's still up to you. That isn't going to change.

It's not much comfort, but it's enough to let him get some sleep.

Chapter Text

The next day Jason and Sean stick together; it works until almost noon, when they head to the bathroom for a piss and find Liam and his boys waiting.

"Get him out of here," Liam says, and Christian grabs Sean by the shirt and pushes him out of the bathroom. Jon goes with him, and Cillian stays behind, eyes moving from Jason to Liam and back again.

Jason's tense all over, but he's glad Sean's not going to be here to see this. Whatever in hell it is. "Do I still have amnesty from your henchmen, or are you determined to see someone else fucking me?" he asks. Liam raises an eyebrow, and Jason glares at him. "Were you disappointed I didn't crawl into Sean's bunk last night?"

"A little," Liam admits. Now he's smiling, the bastard. "I wonder what you would have asked for. I'll bet he would have sucked you off."

Don't think about it, Jason thinks desperately, but it's too late: there's the image, firmly in his mind, and he's getting hard from it. "Fuck you," he mutters.

"Mouth," Liam says, snapping his fingers at Cillian. Cillian just goes straight to his knees and pulls Jason's sweats down, boxers too, lifting the hem of Jason's shirt and sinking his mouth down on Jason's cock. Jason's so startled he doesn't even move back, not that he's got very far to go. Two steps and he'd be up against the wall.

Cillian's mouth is amazing, liquid velvet, and he's already deepthroating. The boy must have no gag reflex whatsoever--that or Liam's trained it out of him. Don't think about that, either, Jason tells himself, but again, it doesn't work this time, and now his mind is full of images of that.

Liam comes up to Jason and grasps the back of his neck--not so tight as to be uncomfortable, but enough that Jason can't move. He leans in close, and at first Jason thinks he's just going to talk, but then his mouth's moving down across Jason's jaw, lips brushing against his lips--what the fuck, he's kissing Jason, mouth on Jason's, tongue sliding in and coaxing Jason's mouth open.

Jason resists for about half a second; then Cillian rubs his tongue against the underside of Jason's cock, and Jason opens his mouth to moan. Liam takes advantage, kissing him rough and deep, and Jason moans again, opening his mouth even more.

Liam pulls away. "Good," he murmurs. "Now get on your knees."

Cillian slides back, and Jason frowns up at Liam. "What the hell are you playing at?" he asks. "What's all this about?"

Liam presses his thumb to Jason's lips, pushes it just inside his mouth. "Your mouth," he says. "On my cock. You can get on your knees now, or I can drag you there."

Jason gets his hands between them and shoves hard at Liam's chest. "Fuck you," he says.

It doesn't move Liam more than an inch. Liam chuckles, grabbing Jason's shirt with one hand--just one, Christ, the man's strong--and then Jason's falling to the floor, hitting the ground on hands and knees as Cillian scrambles out of the way.

"And you say you don't like hurting," Liam says, voice mocking. "Kneel up and give me your fucking mouth, bitch."

Just for that, Jason stays where he is. It's a mistake. Liam drops to the ground next to him and slams his fist into Jason's lower back, and Jason flattens, crying out into the floor. There's a rattle at the bathroom door, Sean's voice yelling Jason's name, and Jason squeezes his eyes shut. Sean's still out there, hearing Jason get hurt. Fuck. Fuck, I don't want him hearing that.

"Come on, now," Liam says, grabbing the back of Jason's neck again. "Kneel up."

For a few seconds, Jason can't; his back hurts so much he can barely breathe. Liam's grip tightens. "Kneel up," he repeats.

Finally, Jason gets himself on his knees again. As soon as he's there, Cillian gets down on his knees and elbows and starts sucking Jason's cock; Liam's standing to the side, cock out already, hand stroking up and down the length of it. Jason's back is still on fire, and his cock's getting some of the best head he's had in--God, ever--and before he can think about why, or what it means that he isn't fighting, he opens his mouth and lets Liam push his cock in.

Liam goes easy at first, and if Jason's back weren't hurting so damned much, he might actually be enjoying this (no, he thinks, no, I wouldn't, goddamn it, I can't fucking enjoy this, not yet). But then Liam picks up the pace, starts fucking Jason's mouth, his throat, until Jason's choking on his cock with every stroke, and when he starts to gag, Liam just growls with satisfaction and pushes in harder. Cillian matches his pace to Liam's, and Jason's hands go down to grasp Cillian's head. He shoves down hard every time Liam chokes him, feeling what Liam's feeling, and when Liam finally groans and pulls back, Jason doesn't--he thrusts into Cillian's mouth three more times and comes, gasping for breath.

He lets go abruptly when Liam's come hits his cheek, and he tries to jerk back; Liam catches the back of his neck and holds him there, painting his face with streak after streak. Jason spits out the come that lands against his lips, but Liam only chuckles at that, rubbing his cock against Jason's cheek when it's all over.

"He's really quite good, isn't he?" Liam asks, glancing down at Cillian. Jason shuts his eyes tight and drags his palm over his cheek, wiping the come off as best he can. Liam grabs Jason by the hair and gives him a rough little shake. "You'll be better."

Jason hears when Liam and Cillian leave. He hears Sean's voice again, loud and angry, but it gets softer, further away, and finally Jason's left alone.

He's just gotten to his feet, gotten his sweats and boxers pulled up again, when the door opens. He bends over the sink immediately, turning on the water and washing the come away; when he looks up, into the mirror, he freezes.

It's Bill. Of course it's Bill. He's got his arms crossed over his chest, and he's leaning against the door.

"Things gotten a little rough around here, huh?" Bill asks.

Fuck you, Jason thinks, but he's not stupid enough to say it.

Bill comes up behind Jason, but he doesn't get close enough to touch. Just close enough that he can stare right into Jason's eyes in the mirror, ice-blue eyes meeting Jason's and locking on.

"I saw his face after you hit him."

Jason shakes his head and looks down at the sink. "I know that's why I'm here. I know you want to protect him--"

"You thought you were so much better than him. A goddamn model of virtue."

Jason's fingers tighten so hard on the sink that his knuckles go white. He doesn't say a word.

"If you ever--" Bill stops, and Jason looks up again. Bill's not looking at him anymore; his head's turned to the side, and his jaw's set. After a few seconds, he turns back to Jason. "Liam's going way too fucking easy on you," he says, and then he's gone.

"Can I ask a favor?"

Sean comes to his feet immediately, reaching out for Jason. "Are you all right?"

Jason avoids Sean's hand, and Sean steps back. "Close enough to it," he says, "but I really don't feel like climbing into my bunk. You mind if we switch for now?"

It takes a second for Sean to answer; his lips are pressed together in a firm line, and he's staring across the hall into Liam's cell like he's trying to kill Liam with his brain. Jason's head hurts from all the fucked-up protective instincts around here. When Sean finally nods, Jason slides into Sean's bunk and stretches out on his stomach, exhaling long and slow. Christ, he hurts.

"Can I do anything?" Sean murmurs.

Jason shakes his head. "No," he murmurs back. "Just let me get some rest."